After the Curtain Falls
by Sylverbayne
Summary: V promised Evey that he would come back to her. One year after the fifth of November, he has, but he is Guy Fawkes no more. It is time for Evey to meet the man behind the mask...work in progress...please RNR Thanks and enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey all, this is my first Fanfic, so enjoy!  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own V or Evey...they are the products of Moore, Lloyd, Vertigo and DC  
**

Chapter One:

Musings in the Shadows

It was November the Fifth, one year to the day since Evey had pulled that lever and sent that train to Parliament. _One year, _she thought longingly, sinking lower into the deep tub, letting the bubbles rise around her shoulders. _One year and not a word…nothing…_she thought bitterly. But what had she expected? For him to just pop up one day at her doorstep? She had seen the blood. It had taken two weeks to get the taste from her mouth and the smell from her hair. Why was she clinging so needlessly to his last words to her? _I will see you again Evey, I promise…_ she had been confused, but not afraid as he had turned to go. Cape swirling in the darkness like a flower opening in the moonlight. She had watched him go then, heart sinking into the floor as he padded away in search of his quarry that night. She sighed. _Why had she believed him?_

VvV

Soft boots danced their way through the cobble-stoned streets of London. Finally after what had seemed like an eternity, he was home. _How he had missed her, his Evey. Could he call her that?_ He wondered, stopping to stare at the star strewn sky. Slowly, he turned the dozen roses he was carrying in his hands. _Was she still his? Had she waited for him after all this time?_

He remembered one year ago, leaving her alone to face the gallery's mysteries. Their last moments together had ripped his heart out; dying for her had been his last great act as Guy Fawkes. One that he ultimately had to perform so that he might have a second chance at living. _But without her, was it really living?_ His gait paused again. He didn't want to think about it.

He remembered what he had left for her. The note. He had kissed it before placing it on top of the basket in which purred a tiny kitten, so that she would have a living soul around to keep her company. He remembered tying the red ribbon around its tiny neck and softly requesting it to keep watch over his Evey while he was away. Promising it that he would be home again soon.

He stood now in front of the tunnel entrance to the underground world that had made up his life for over twenty years. He took a deep, steadying breath, feeling his body shudder with nerves. She was the only force that could bring him to his knees. _Bloody hell, old man, focus. _He pictured Evey's smile, her kind hands intertwined in his, his lips kissing her fingertips in greeting. He breathed again, feeling the flight of the birds in his stomach as he pulled open the heavy steel door and walked into the darkness.

VvV

A lot had happened since last year. Evey had used some of the funds that V had left her to build a museum above the Shadow Gallery. It was small, for now anyway. She had taken the multiple paintings and antiques and catalogued them all and with the help of Dominic, and started the museum.

She smiled, thinking of Dominic and how he had acted like a mother hen for the longest time after the fifth. How silly he had been, checking in on her every night after work, bringing dinner with him. Trying to coax her from her shadowy home.

The truth had been that she did not want to leave. In the early days after V's death, she would sit in a corner and read, waiting for him to return. She waited a day, then a week. After a month had passed, the black tendrils of dread had started to weave their way into her mind. He was dead. He had to be. When this realization had hit her, it had felt like a slap in the face. She broke then. Lying in his bed, she didn't move for hours at a time, like when she was locked in the cell. She was a prisoner in her own mind.

She had stayed that way for almost a week. But Dominic had been there then too. He had gotten her to eat, and read to her so she would sleep. He would leave her a warm pot of tea and muffins in the morning. They were nothing near what V had made, but they were still comforting.

Dominic was a wonderful_ friend_, she thought, but at the moment, her heart belonged to another.

A smile curved her lips as she remembered when she found Dante. The basket V had so carefully placed the note explaining what he wanted done with the paintings and other valuables, was half way across the floor and the basket was turned upside-down. She had picked it up carefully, feeling the weight shift inside of it as the kitten scurried around its box. She remembered the purring and gentle lick she had received when she reached in and pulled it out of the wicker cage. Dante was her hope that he would come back. He was the one who would play with her hair as it lay sprayed across the pillow when she didn't want to leave his bed. It was Dante who chased the shadows away when they seemed to enclose her in their grip. He was her panther, her protector, in the form of a house cat.

She looked at his sleek black form, still wearing the scarlet ribbon around his neck that V had put there. Dante stalked around the edge of the tub, swatting at bubbles that floated his way. He looked at her, his luminous green eyes flashing, his tail flicking slowly back and forth. She wondered what he was thinking as her eyes started to close.

Today had been a long day. The museum had opened and there were hordes of people that had attended the great memorial museum. She had smiled at the veterans, the children and their parents, hoping that they would understand why these objects were so important. At eight o'clock when the doors finally closed, she was able to take refuge in her underground home. She had slowly slid the dress that she had been wearing off, lit some vanilla candles and settled in for a nice long bubble bath. She sighed, the thoughts swirling around her head starting to lose their sharpness as she sank into a vanilla scented haze of weariness. She heard Dante batting at the water and padding softly around the edge; and sighing again, she let the quiet finally settle around her like a warm blanket.

VvV

V stood upon the threshold of the Shadow Gallery, his heart hammering. He could see the flickering of lights, so she must be in there. How to make the entrance? He could just see himself stepping thought the door, yelling, _'Honey, I'm home,'_ Evey would come from some room and greet him by throwing her arms around him, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. He frowned, that wouldn't do at all. He could recite a sonnet…he grimaced_, no, that wouldn't do either._ He sighed, and placed his ungloved hand on the door, praying that the right words would come when he needed them.

His feet led him through the gallery. He looked everywhere; she wasn't in the kitchen, sitting room, or her bedroom. There was only one other place and he swallowed in apprehension—his room. He paused as he came to his door, it was open and there was steam floating across the floor. He breathed, this wasn't what he had pictured, but the idea of seeing her…_no, don't think like that…_he shook his head violently, trying to clear the images of a naked Evey out of his mind…_not yet anyway_, he smiled hopefully.

He tread carefully around the room trying to peak into the bathroom without seeming as though he were some peeping tom. He saw her hand over the edge of the tub, _okay she was in there, now what? _He looked closer: her back was to him, her body relaxed as she breathed quietly. She was angelic, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders, the gold tendrils having grown back in a year. He reached out, wanting to touch them, they looked so soft. He stepped forward, considering several possibilities about how to approach this situation.

The tiny kitten he had left in his stead, was now making his way to him. He was a fine feline, slinking toward him, sizing him up, deciding if he were friend or foe. The cat jumped into his arms purring loudly. It was then that he heard her stir in the water and before he could hide, Evey had started to scream.

VvV

Evey's eyes finally drifted closed and the weight of the world had lifted off of her shoulders. Her breathing calm she let her mind wander into the foggy realm of not quite asleep and not quite awake. She saw herself, lying in the tub, stretching languidly as she got up and toweled off. Wrapping the towel around her, she turned to see a silhouette in the doorway. It was him. V.

Her knees buckled. He wasn't dead. He hadn't lied. He had come back. She walked cautiously to him, fingers caressing the mask. Slowly he reached behind his head and unclipped it. Pulling it away from his face, he let it fall to the floor with a _thud._ He motioned for her to follow him, speechless, she did. Listening to the sharp clicking of the boots that he wore.

_Click._

_Click. Click. Thud._

Her eyes shot open. The feeling that she was not alone spread to the pit of her stomach. She sank lower into the tub and covered her chest with an arm. Turning slowly, she looked to the doorway and screamed.

"Who are you? _Get out!"_ The man started to run, she threw her robe on and ran after him, picking up one of V's knives that lay on her dresser. "What the _fuck_ do you think you are doing in _my home?"_ She screamed as she chased him to the sitting room. She had him cornered, "What do you want?" Her breath came in gasps. She waited for his answer. Muscles tense. Eyes wide.

He was handsome, on the taller side of six feet and well built. He had a full head of black hair, cut to about his cheeks and soft chocolate eyes. She paused at his eyes, they seemed familiar somehow. Tightening her grip on the knife, she chased the thought away from her mind, and raised the knife higher. His skin was smooth and clean, but very pale as if he had not spent much time in the sun. He wore black leather pants and boots, a white silk shirt and a long black leather coat. Smiling up at her from his left lapel was the Guy Fawkes pin made just for the museum's grand opening. She felt a chill crawl up her spine, _he had stalked her…_

Before her mouth could accuse him of anything, the man bowed low and started to speak in a full, Shakespearian tone. "Voila!" he paused for effect. Whatever Evey had expected, it hadn't been this. She felt her hand start to lower, and then corrected it, _no slip-ups, there isn't anyone to save you this time,_ she thought.

"In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate." Evey was shaking, the knife falling to the floor with a clatter as she started to back away, tears filling her eyes. _This had to be someone's idea of a sick joke. This couldn't be real. _

The man continued, calmly stepping towards her. "This visage, no mere veneer of vanity is a vestige of the _vox populi, _now vacant, vanished; a vital voice once venerated, now vilified. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation now stands vivified, and has fulfilled his vow to you, Evey Hammond." The man smiled and bowed again, taking her hand and kissing it gently. He swallowed as he brought himself to his full height, and continued to speak. "Yet verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it is my very great honor to meet you, again, and you may call me V."

Evey felt the room spin. _This wasn't real._ Her body shook and her vision blurred with tears.

"I have come back, Evey." He reached for her. His eyes were soft with concern. _The eyes…they couldn't be…he couldn't be…he was dead! _Her thoughts were fragmented, her reality spun around her, shattered and contorted.

"Get out!" She screamed, turning to pickup the knife, losing her balance and falling to a very real wood floor. Tendrils of inky blackness started to cloud her vision as the man bent down and started to pick her up. _"Get…."_ She felt his gentle touch,_ "…out…,"_ felt the couch he placed her on. Then she remembered no more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey all, thanks for being patient...I am extremely sorry about the wait. Thanks to all who reviewed! Special thanks to R., Bel, Neinna and Fabulous1Forever...I couldn't have done it without you guys.**

**Enjoy! **

Chapter Two: May I Present…

V sighed as he sat down on the couch. Cradling Evey's head in his lap, he shifted his weight so he could hold her close, at least for a moment. _It had gone so wrong._ He remembered the foolish image of her kissing him the minute he stepped through the doorway. _I guess it was too much to hope for…at least right now._ He sighed again, fighting back the despair rooting in the pit of his stomach. This would be a process, he thought grudgingly. This is what normal people do. Dating. He shuddered, never before had something seemed so ominous.

_Why were the social interactions between a man and a woman so complicated?_

Evey turned her head, mumbling incoherently. He braced himself; she was starting to come around. He looked over her body, reaching down; he pulled the robe tighter around her. He didn't want her feeling embarrassed when she came to. It might be bad enough that she was waking up with her head in his lap. _Perhaps I should move…_

He started to slide out from under her, but her hands snaked their way into his jacket, clutching the leather as if her life depended on it. She mumbled something into the coat. He tilted his head and listened intently.

"V." He almost didn't catch it. V repressed the desire to shake her awake. _But I _am _here, _he thought, despair taking root once again. Her eyes started to flutter and her breathing became shallow. Finally, with one great intake of breath, her eyes shot open and she sat upright. Her eyes still wide with fear.

"Evey, its okay Evey," he could feel her body shuddering as it tried to sort out what had just happened. Her breathing was ragged, coming in gasps. She turned to look at him.

"No. It's not _okay_. Get out of my house you sick pervert." Scrambling to her feet, she glared down at him and spat, "get out before I call …"

"…Scotland Yard? What are they going to do, evict me from my own home?" He smiled. "Evey, its me…V," he looked past the anger storming in her eyes and prayed that she would remember.

_Please remember…please…_

Her body remained rigid, waiting for him to strike. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for the knife, still lying on the floor not ten feet from where she was standing.

"I saved you from the fingermen, then showed you a concerto from the rooftop as the Old Bailey was blown to bits in front of your eyes…Evey…" he paused, gazing into her eyes, "I have come home." His expression softened.

_Please remember…_

"You told me that your father was a writer, your mother read you Shakespeare," he gestured wildly around the room to the bookshelves, groping for anything that would spark her memory.

_Please…_

"Evey you know who I am." He reached an ungloved hand out to her, hoping to break the tension, "I promised that you would see me again Evey, and here I am, exactly one year later, keeping my promise to you."

Suddenly an idea came to him: _if she doesn't trust me, I need to let her feel as though she has the upper hand…give her the advantage. _Slowly he stood and crossed the room to where the knife lay on the floor. He picked it up and brought it back to her. Looking into her eyes, he handed her the knife and placed his hands behind his back.

"Evey if you don't believe me, go look on the kitchen table, you should find something of interest to you there." Her eyes flashed like they did when she was thinking.

Holding the robe closed with one hand and slid the sash out of its loops with the other. "Turn around," with his back to her; she tied both of his hands securely behind him.

He smiled inwardly; she_ at least had learned to take care of herself…though the knot is slightly loose… _he played along, knowing it may be the only way that she would trust him.

"Stay here. I am not sure if I believe you." She snapped as a look of pain and uncertainty crossed her face.

VvV

Evey looked at the stranger, not wanting to trust him. He seemed familiar, smelled familiar. She refused to believe it. She trampled the green shoots of hope that were sprouting in her mind. _No. _Not again.

After securing the stranger's hands, painfully aware of his eyes on her; she left the room, looking back only once. Remembering. Thinking. Hoping. She strode toward the kitchen, the hard floor cool under her bare feet. She paused at the bedroom door. After a moment, she entered and started to rummage through the dresser. Selecting pajamas, she pulled on a pair of flannel pants and a tank top before hurrying to the kitchen.

_What if it was really him?_ _It can't be. He's dead…Dead. Gone. _

She flicked the kitchen light on and felt her jaw hit the floor. On the table were one dozenroses. Scarlet Carsons. _His _roses.

Tears streamed down her face as the realization hit her. She attacked him, she screamed at him, she even tied him up and he had done nothing but love her. _Try to love her, _she corrected. The guilt felt like a stone weighing in her stomach. _How could she?_ She always imagined him coming home… her cooking him a meal, sharing some wine, dancing…not this…_not this._

She shook her head as more tears came. Not knowing what she was going to do, she scooped up the roses and left the kitchen in a daze, unsure if her feet would make it back to the sitting room. She saw him, unmasked, sitting on the couch with his hands still bound. Any other time the idea of him being bound by a mere sash would have been hilarious.

She stood in the doorway, uncertain what to do. She felt her knees knocking, the room started to spin as she looked upon him. He lifted his gaze, searching her eyes. She leaned against the doorframe for support, she couldn't move.

In one swift movement, she watched as V snapped the sash binding his hands and crossed the room in what looked like three strides. She gazed up into his face, his real face, unsure of what to do. She felt the roses fall from her shaking hands as she became lost in his eyes. Her mouth started to open and close, trying to form words.

"V…I…I…" she choked as a fresh wave of tears cascaded down her cheeks. She looked away, wanting to fade into the woodwork until she could calm down. She felt his gentle hand caress her cheek, trying to soothe her. He picked her up and carried her to the couch. Sitting down, he wrapped her in his arms. She snuggled into his coat and quietly cried into his chest. She placed an ear to his heart, listening to it. He breathed. She heard his lungs expand and his heart beat as he waited for her to absorb the information. Her fingers gripped his shirt and slowly she started to breathe again.

She felt the weight of the day press in on her; it was too much, her eyelids started closing. _Sleep seemed like such a wonderful idea._ She sighed and felt herself fall asleep, as she had dreamed about so many times, in his arms. She smiled as she pulled the leather closer around her.

VvV

V let out the breath he had been holding. _Perhaps she really was his Evey..._he smiled at the thought. Gazing down at her once more, he sighed and reached for the light switch behind them. This isn't a dream, he thought. _She is here, right here, in my arms_.His eyes started close as her scent wrapped warmly around him. He chuckled inwardly, _a warm body was much better than waking up with your arms wrapped around a pillow. _His eyes flicked open again; _how he longed to kiss her_.

"V…" Evey stirred on his chest, "…I missed you."

"I missed you as well. But the hour is late and we must really--" he stretched and yawned "—need to sleep." He smiled as he ran his fingers cautiously over her soft hair. _This really isn't a dream. _ "There will be lots of time to talk in the morning." He slid his boots off and propped his feet up on the couch.

"Hmm," she sighed, voice thick with sleep.

V pulled her closer as he situated himself on the couch. He drifted off smiling like a Cheshire cat; for the first time in his life he felt human. Better than that, he felt whole. As he wandered farther into the realm of sleep, he realized that he felt something that he had never felt before.

He was happy.

V smiled, nuzzling Evey's neck. He imagined the two of them having a picnic in the country. She laid, head in his lap, listening to him read to her, his fingers gently stroking her hair as the stars started to come out and the moon started to rise. V sighed contentedly, wrapping his arm tighter around her as his imagination ran wild with acts that were best left to the light of the moon and the twinkling of the stars.


End file.
